Unwrapped Bundle with You Don't Know Jack & Bad Boys in Kilts

by Erin McCarthy

  Before he even knew what he was doing, he had leaned forward and placed his mouth below her ear.

  She jerked back and crashed into the door of her apartment building. “Stop that. Steve and Finn are sitting right in the limo.”

  He didn’t care about them any more than he cared about Allison’s purse. “So, it would be okay if we were alone, then?”

  “Yes.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean no! Of course not.”

  She was flustered, and that was a good thing.

  He smiled and started forward, intent on claiming another kiss. He’d thought a lot the night before, wondering what it was about Jamie that he admired so much. After mentally listing about nine hundred things, he had decided the bottom line was that Jamie was totally unselfish and knew herself.

  That was very sexy. Except she was completely wrong about what they should do now. She wanted to end whatever was growing between them. He wanted to nourish it, explore it, enjoy it.

  “I meant what I said last night, Jamie. I’m not going anywhere. Every time you turn around, I’m going to be there, waiting until you’re ready.”

  Jamie’s eyes went wide, and she pressed herself back against the glass door. “You can’t,” she whispered.

  “I can.” Jack was almost there, anticipating her mouth under his, her breasts dancing across his chest, when the door was propelled forward and Jamie tumbled into his arms.

  Her breasts weren’t dancing across his chest now. They were crushed against him, virtually spilling up out of the top of her dress as she struggled to regain her balance.

  Allison gave a blithe, “Sorry,” as she came through the door and stopped on the sidewalk.

  Though Allison didn’t look at him as she put on gigantic white-rimmed sunglasses, he thought he detected a slight smile.

  Which meant he owed Allison a hearty thanks, if she supported his quest for Jamie.

  Who was squirming in his arms, causing a good amount of her to wiggle against a lot of him.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Fine.” Her gaze dropped to his lips, then back up to his eyes. She gulped. “Really, you can let me go now…”

  He pressed against her, taking care to meld himself to her body in a particularly intimate spot with his very obvious erection.

  “Oh, gracious!” she said, her head falling back, as her eyes drifted half shut.

  His sentiments exactly.

  He went in for the kiss he was determined to take this time.

  And met with air.

  Jamie had maneuvered out of his arms and was walking in a zigzag drunken manner toward the limo, wiping her hands on her dress.

  He stared in disbelief for a minute until Mandy came through the door and said, “Sorry I’m late. Are we all ready?”

  Then her gaze landed on the tent his tuxedo pants were making. Her mouth fell open.

  First Pops, now Mandy. He hadn’t been caught with this many public hard-ons since junior high. Then he had simply stopped wearing sweatpants and watching Baywatch.

  There was nothing he could do now about being with Jamie. Or that taunting dress.

  Mandy hid a laugh behind her hand. “That answers my question. You are absolutely ready.”

  Jesus, was he blushing?

  Mandy shot him a backward grin as she bent over to climb into the limo. “If I didn’t have such a delicious husband, I think I might be jealous of Jamie.”

  He frowned. “She told you about…us?” Did that mean his sister knew? He would have thought Caroline would have mentioned it to him. It wasn’t as if it were a secret or anything, but he hadn’t found it necessary to tell his sister either. Especially since Jamie had dumped him.

  “Normally, Jamie cannot keep a secret. But this time, she hasn’t said a word. I’ve just got eyes in my head and the prescient skill of a pregnant woman. Don’t worry, Caroline doesn’t know.” She climbed into the car and left him standing in the sun.

  “Know what?” he complained to no one in particular, waving a fat pigeon away from his feet. “That we could have, almost, sort of had something going on, but after one incredibly mind-blowing night, it’s dead in the water because of me?”

  The pigeon didn’t answer him, so he got a grip and joined the bridal party. When he got in the limo, Jamie was having a heated argument with Allison.

  “I think the girls should sit on this side, and the guys on the other,” Jamie said, her face flushed. She wasn’t sitting down, but was doing an odd sort of hovering in the center of the limo, head and back hunched over.

  “What is this, eighth grade?” Allison rolled her eyes. “I’m not moving because it doesn’t matter.” She patted Finn’s and Steve’s knees on either side of her. “Besides, I like all this muscle around me.”

  Mandy sat down on the seat by the window, and Jack slid in next to her, leaving the only seat available for Jamie right next to him by the door.

  Amused that Jamie didn’t trust herself to even sit next to him, he patted the seat invitingly. “I showered today and remembered my deodorant.”

  Her lip curled.

  Allison told Jamie, “You’re screwing up your hair standing there like that. It’s scraping against the ceiling.”

  “Shoot!” Jamie grabbed at her head and took the seat next to him, patting her hairs back into place.

  In an attempt to avoid him, she flattened herself against the window and turned a little so her back was to him.

  It gave him a nice view of her round little behind outlined in satin.

  Which he took the liberty of gawking at for a large portion of the drive, alternating staring at her butt with checking out her cleavage. The one time he managed to pry his gaze away, he caught Steve’s eye, who gave him a knowing look.

  He shrugged.

  Steve grinned.

  When they pulled up in front of the church, Jamie bolted out of the door first and ran up the steps. He followed her in time to see her retreat into a little room at the back of the church where the bride was meant to wait until her big entrance.

  The photographer was pacing in the vestibule and grabbed him by the arm as he walked through the door.

  “Where’s the rest of the bridal party?” he asked in exasperation. “We’re supposed to take pictures of each of you individually, then together, then the groomsmen together, then the bridesmaids together, then the siblings, then the bride and her father.”

  Jack blinked at the laundry list of photo shots.

  The man yanked on his tie and frowned. “We only have thirty minutes or so before guests start arriving.”

  Jamie must have forgotten about pictures in her haste to put space between them. He told the photographer, “I’ll find them.”

  Or her.

  What a great excuse to go and hunt down Jamie.

  He knocked on the door and waited a minute, listening to the string quartet warming up in the balcony above. Loud, chattering voices came through the door, and he suspected they hadn’t heard his knock.

  With a shrug, he opened the door and stepped inside.

  His sister was standing there with their mom, looking absolutely stunning.

  Forgetting Jamie momentarily, forgetting his mother’s unhappiness with him, he went over to his sister and took her hand. Kissed her cheek. “Caro, you look beautiful.”

  She was cool and classy, his little sister, her straight blond hair pulled back off of her face. Her dress was long and narrow, and she carried a tiny bouquet of white flowers in her hand. Looking very bridal and serene, she made him proud.

  The smile she gave him was warm and excited. “Thanks, Jonathon. How’s everything going out there?”

  “I came to get Jamie. The photographer wants pictures.”

  Jamie, who had been hiding in the corner, heard him and started toward the door, obviously planning on leaving without even looking at him.

  Caroline called out, “Wait, Jamie, you don’t have your necklace on.”

  Jamie’s hand flew t
o her neck. “Oh! I forgot to put it on, it’s in my purse. I need help with the clasp though.”

  His mother opened her mouth and held out her hand, but he was faster. “I’ll help you.”

  Both his mother and sister were preoccupied with the back of Caroline’s dress, which they kept touching and tugging, so neither noticed his near run across the room to reach Jamie.

  Everything had become absolutely clear to him. He wanted this woman. As his. Wearing white herself.

  Good God, he could actually envision that, and he was just going to explain—coax, seduce, threaten, beg—that to her until she agreed.

  Jamie thought about just bolting out of the room, but decided that wasn’t good form given the circumstances. She’d been raised better than that. She could practically feel her granny’s hand slapping hers.

  Instead of taking off, she pulled the sterling silver necklace that had been a bridal gift from Caroline out of her purse and tried to squeeze the clasp. If she got it open in the next two seconds, Jack’s help wouldn’t be needed.

  No such luck.

  He was behind her, taking the necklace, leaning over her, breathing into her hair.

  “Let me help you,” he whispered. “There are times I can help you, too, you know.”

  His arms came around her, resting the chain against her bare skin, as she fought the urge to lean back and close her eyes.

  He was telling her something, only her brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity. Jack was too close; she couldn’t think with the warm aftershave smell of him clouding her nostrils.

  Then he dropped the necklace.

  And it slid down, down into the cavernous depths of her cleavage.

  She was too stunned to move, and heat suffused her cheeks.

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  Then his hand came over her shoulder and started toward her chest as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

  Oh, God, help her.

  If she screamed, Caroline and Mrs. Davidson were going to wonder if she had lost her mind. Or worse, see Jack’s hand down her dress.

  Right now they weren’t looking at all.

  But if she just stood here while he…

  His fingers trailed along her breasts as he descended, and she bit her lip hard to prevent a groan from slipping out. His mouth was right next to her ear as he leaned over her shoulder to see where he was going.

  To better torture her.

  “I’ve almost got it,” he whispered, fingers sliding up and down against her bare skin.

  She sucked in her breath when without warning he dipped his tongue into her ear.

  If Caroline turned now, there would be no explaining why half of her brother’s arm was down Jamie’s bodice and his tongue was cleaning out her inner ear.

  But Caro didn’t turn, and Jack went farther, until his hand was cupping her breast, squeezing it, and she felt the room tilt in ecstasy. Felt her body respond by hardening, tightening, moistening. Nails digging into her palms, she tried to stop the flood of yearning, the hitch of sexual desire.

  It was possible that the entire top of the dress was about to drop off of her in the ultimate wardrobe malfunction, and she didn’t care.

  All she cared about was Jack, and the feel of his breathing over her hard and urgent, a definite erection pressing into her backside.

  When he came up with the necklace, she was shaking and desperately disappointed.

  And acutely aware that she was no match for Jack. She didn’t have a prayer of resisting him.

  She wanted Jack Davidson, and he knew it.

  And he was going to torture her until she let him make delicious love to her.

  How did she end up with these tragic problems?

  When put that way, it sounded so damn silly.

  As Jamie smiled and posed her way through approximately seventeen thousand photos, she wondered why she couldn’t just have Jack.

  Oh, she knew the reasons. They were as long as her arm, and they mattered, but it was so hard to resist Jack. So hard to say that they couldn’t at least try.

  She was an optimist by nature. She wanted to believe if she just loved Jack, it could work out. But the very part of her that wanted to fix the world at work had seen enough of reality to know that nothing was ever that simple.

  And she was afraid. When she’d had the chance to talk to her father the week before, and he had chosen to bolt instead, she had been devastated. Now it occurred to her she was in fact her father’s daughter. A coward. She was just as afraid to face an uncertain future as Jim Peters was.

  “You with the red hair, move closer to your partner, please.”

  Jamie frowned at the photographer. She was not a redhead. She moved an eighth of an inch closer to Jack.

  “Closer.”

  They were standing on steps on the side of the stone church, and she was already practically in Jack’s arms.

  Gritting her teeth, she moved again.

  Jack’s arm shot out, wrapped around her waist, then yanked her until she was snugly molded to him, her thigh resting against his hard leg.

  “Good.” The photographer clicked his camera.

  Jack’s hand had slid to her behind and he gave a little squeeze.

  “Stop it,” she whispered, her smile feeling more and more forced. She suspected she looked like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.

  She expected him to say something slick, or suggestive, or to simply ignore her and cop another feel.

  Instead, he disarmed her by saying quietly, “I’ll catch you if you fall. I haven’t always shown them to you, but I do have good qualities, Jamie, and loyalty is one of them. I’d always be there for you.”

  “Jack…” She didn’t know what to say. He had shown her good qualities, particularly when it came to Austin and Jack’s grandfather.

  She couldn’t quite bring herself to look at him. He’d see her heart in her eyes, the longing she felt. Which wasn’t good. Longing, that is. But come to think of it, nausea wasn’t good either, and she was experiencing that in constant waves. And she was not pregnant, contrary to Caroline’s off-the-wall concern.

  Jamie was still standing next to Jack, speechless as the photographer clicked, clicked, aware that Jack was waiting for her response.

  Fortunately, at that moment, Mrs. Davidson opened the church doors and said, “We’re ready. Let’s go inside, please, when you’re done with that shot. All the guests have arrived.”

  The next few minutes were a scramble as they assembled at the back of the church as quietly as possible. She and Jack were walking down the aisle after Mandy and Steve, just like at rehearsal. Caroline had opted out of having a maid of honor, not willing to choose between the three of them, and not having a sister or a future sister-in-law to single out.

  The church was air-conditioned, and the murmuring of the guests settled down into shuffling silence as the musicians began to play louder. Jamie fought the urge to grip her stomach and took deep breaths to steady herself.

  She could do this.

  The sea of faces, Brad waiting expectantly at the front of the church, all swam in front of her. Jack offered his arm with a sultry smile, and she took it.

  He squeezed her hand and whispered to her, “You look fantastic, Jamie. But I bet you would look even better in white.”

  Whatever calm she had managed to achieve fled. Was he hinting about marriage?

  She thought she might have a cow right on the spot.

  Because of the insanity of the idea, and the presumptuousness, and the fact that they hadn’t even managed a second date yet.

  And for a much different reason.

  Gazing down that aisle, poised next to Jack, she realized she wanted to believe Beckwith. She wanted Jack to be her forever.

  Maybe from the minute she had laid eyes on him she had wanted him. Beckwith had said he would touch her soul, and Lord, she was feeling pretty touched already.

  She gripped her bouquet of lilies like it was a winning lottery ticket
she didn’t want to drop.

  “Thank you,” she said, for lack of anything better. They certainly could not have a major discussion regarding their relationship right at this moment. But Lord, thanking the man for a compliment like that was downright lame. Next he’d propose, and she’d be giving him a thumbs-up.

  Then Allison nudged her. “It’s time to walk.”

  “Just like in practice,” Jack whispered to her. “No sweat.”

  Did he actually remember the practice? She couldn’t remember anything except the tidal wave of lust that had been crashing over her at Jack’s touch.

  But she had been walking since her first birthday, after all. She could handle this.

  They walked up the aisle, her fingers lightly on his tuxedo sleeve, and Jack’s presence next to her reassuring and masculine. She smiled like a beauty pageant contestant and sank into her seat at the end of the aisle with significant relief.

  Best of all, Jack was sitting across the aisle with the other groomsmen, so she could actually relax and not have to worry about his wandering hands.

  Everyone stood and watched Caroline walk up the aisle on the arm of her beaming father. She looked stunning, confident and poised, and Jamie felt tears pricking at her eyes.

  It was a wonderful day for Caroline, and from the looks of Brad, wide-eyed up front, he appreciated the woman he was getting. Jamie was so happy for her friend, and equally determined that Beckwith was wrong in Caroline’s case. She didn’t look like a woman poised for tragedy, and Brad didn’t look like an uneasy groom.

  Beckwith’s prediction for her rose up into her mind again and haunted her as the minister began to speak about the responsibilities that accompany marriage. Beckwith had said Jack was going to make her happy, and touch her soul.

  Well, he had. For one night.

  Beckwith had never said anything about forever or marriage.

  So there.

  Jack could find himself a nice little properties lawyer in a red power suit, and they could settle down in TriBeCa during the busy work week and head out to the Hamptons on the weekends.

  That would leave her free to find a wonderful…someone. That she didn’t want.